


Watch Them Swing Like Wedding Bells

by edy



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Carnival, Established Relationship, Ferris Wheel Sex, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7752733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edy/pseuds/edy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tyler really wants to go to the fair and Josh has to ask Tyler a really important question at the top of the Ferris wheel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Them Swing Like Wedding Bells

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pollarize](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollarize/gifts).



> request from [mason](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollarize/pseuds/Pollarize): ferris wheel sex

Tyler should have known today was going to be awful when someone puked on his shoes. His hopes are high, though, despite Josh having to pull him over to the porta potties and spray his shoes with a hose.

"Dude," he says, catching the eye of a man entering the toilet next to them, "I'm sorry, but I can't save these."

"Save the shoes," Tyler says, all smiles, "not the socks." He peels away his socks and pitches them into a bin. It's a good idea at the time; it's summer, he'll be doing a lot of walking, so his shoes will dry.

"You're right," Josh sighs, tossing the hose onto the ground, back into a puddle of dirty water. "There might be a vendor nearby that sells socks. Or, or… maybe you can guilt someone into giving you their socks."

It's a combination of both. There's a vendor in the art market selling socks she knitted herself. While Tyler feels bad for practically stealing them from her, she says he doesn't owe her a thing. "I feel bad," she says, and pouts with Tyler. "Have some socks."

"Lemme give you _something_."

"Free of charge." She presses them into Tyler's chest. "I insist."

"What did you expect to happen?" Josh asks, on his knees in front of Tyler, pulling on the socks for Tyler as Tyler sits on a bench and goes through Twitter. "You strolled right up to her, puppy-dog eyes and bottom lip out, and said, 'I really need some socks.'" Josh does an impression of Tyler for this. It's very convincing. "'Someone threw up on me.'" Josh imitates a sniff. "'Did you make these yourself? They're really beautiful.' Who wouldn't give you a free pair?" Josh runs his fingers along the backs of Tyler's calves, hairy things with dark skin often bitten by great white teeth. "Can't argue with you. They are beautiful." Josh tickles Tyler's ankle and the black cat looking up at the evening sky.

"Didn't sound like that," Tyler mumbles. He stuffs his phone in his pocket. "Let's have some fun."

The fair's in town. Tyler has been bugging Josh all week for them to go. "Please, please, please," he says every evening when Josh comes home, and Josh takes Tyler into his arms and rubs his back and says, "M'tired, Tyler, maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow."

But they don't go tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Josh is tired. He wants to sleep. He won't even fuck Tyler.

Tyler gasps, feigning offense. "You're never too tired for my dick."

Josh laughs. "Well, tonight I am, baby." He still falls asleep with his hand stuck down the front of Tyler's pants, but Tyler forgives him because Josh snores in his sleep and has adorable bedhead.

Tyler has taken to lying next to Josh while they're in bed and whispering, "You will take Tyler to the fair tomorrow," in Josh's ear as he sleeps. "Tyler really, _really_ wants to go to the fair, and you will take Tyler to the fair and hold his hand wherever you go because that will make Tyler happy, and you like it when Tyler is happy."

Somehow, it works. Josh takes him to the fair, and he holds Tyler's hand wherever he goes, and Tyler is happy. "I like it when you're happy," Josh says, and kisses Tyler's cheek. Tyler can't believe it worked. He'll need to whisper things to Josh while he sleeps more from now on. Who knows what he could accomplish.

A little boy had vomited on Tyler's shoes before they stepped through the gates. "Don't go on the Ferris wheel," he groaned, sticky hands to his stomach, and Josh whisked Tyler to the porta potties and Tyler gazed longingly at the Ferris wheel in the distance. It should be common sense to not trust any ride that can be assembled and dissembled in the same day, but Tyler loves the fair. He can tell Josh does, too, even if he's scowling as he washes digested deep-fried Twinkies from Tyler's shoes.

They're eating cotton candy and sitting in the grass. Tyler has cats on his feet and Josh's arm around his waist. The Ferris wheel is in front of them, the tallest structure Tyler has seen in his life. He wants to climb it. His fingertips shake. Josh pulls him closer. "Now, I know you're not scared of heights," he says. "What's wrong?"

Tyler makes something up. "The carts are rocking. Back and forth. Made me think of spacecrafts. Flying. Like they want to go somewhere, but they like where they are. They want change, but a change so small… yet significant enough that nothing will change, but everything will change."

Josh stares at him. "Yeah." He furrows his brow and looks back at the Ferris wheel. Slowly, he begins to nod and stuffs his mouth with the rest of his cotton candy. "I see what you mean."

And that's what leads them to the Ferris wheel, and that's what leads Tyler to believe Josh is going to do something as stupid and romantic as propose to him once they get to the top.

Why? Tyler realizes the half-assed metaphor with the Ferris wheel carts is like their relationship. Together for years, best friends for longer, and their friends have already resorted to calling them an old married couple. A ring wouldn't change their behavior. A ring would provide the added bonus of seeing each other in the hospital and filing taxes jointly. Or some adult shit like that. Tyler stares at Josh as they wait in line, arms crossed over his chest and narrowed eyes. Josh is on his phone, flicking through his apps and consulting Tyler on which ones he should delete to get more storage space.

"Which ones take up the most space?" Tyler asks.

"Says pictures, but I can't delete those."

"Why not?"

"Dude, I have hundreds of just you sitting around." Josh has an album solely for Tyler, and he looks at it right now, occasionally laughing but all the while smiling.

"You're embarrassing."

"You love me," Josh says matter-of-factly, "so much."

"No, I despise you. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"

"Tyler, stop, you're making me blush." And he is. Tyler can hardly believe his eyes. Josh slides his phone back into his pocket and holds onto the weak excuse for a guard rail by Tyler's side. His head tilts, and he looks at Tyler and gets this really irritatingly endearing expression on his face, and Tyler has to touch both his palms to Josh's face to hide all evidence of his angelic persona from the world.

"Josh," Tyler warns, and Josh laughs and lightly nips at Tyler's palms.

It's not that Tyler doesn't want to marry Josh. He does. Holy hell, does he want to be Josh's husband. Tyler never thought it'd happen here, of all places. A music festival or… or the fucking beach would be better suited for them, but it isn't like Tyler doesn't appreciate this. Maybe _Josh_ thinks _Tyler_ is going to propose? That must be why Tyler wanted to go to the fair so badly, right? Why else? No, Tyler saw the trucks and vans drive by as he was on a walk, and he felt like a kid again. Nothing's ever brought him back to his childhood as fast as seeing the traveling carnival—and Josh has made it a personal goal to find them a place with a tree house in the backyard, after hearing Tyler ramble on and on about the one his dad built.

That's why they're at the fair: Tyler is a twentysomething with nostalgia, and Josh loves Tyler. Can't get simpler than that.

They're next in line. Josh's hand rests on Tyler's back, holding him, doing nothing else. The smallest gesture is able to send Tyler into a sappy puddle. He looks at their shoes and wonders if he should have worn his Adidas sandals rather than vans. When he starts thinking about little-kid vomit seeping through his toes, he knows he's made the right choice.

So, what if Josh is expecting Tyler to pop the question? Well, Tyler is expecting Josh to do the same. Either the ride will be completely awkward on the way down, or… or what? Tyler doesn't know. They're climbing onto the ride. Josh helps him up, ever the gentleman, and Tyler feels like screaming. He doesn't know what he's going to do. Does _he_ propose? His stomach twists at the thought. He doesn't have a ring, hasn't even thought about engagement rings. Does Josh? Shit, has Josh actually bought a ring? No, he can't have. Tyler expects, maybe, a Ring Pop—not fucking diamonds from him.

But now Tyler is second guessing everything. Is this really happening? Why is this called a Ferris wheel?

Next to him, Josh is cool as can be, an arm slung around the back of the cart, offering makeshift comfort to Tyler, who is now suspecting the child was planted there by _someone_ to ensure they get on this ride—because why else, yeah? Tyler thinks this ride might crash and burn, everybody in its midst will die a horrible death, and he isn't even married to Josh yet. He grips the rail of the cart, producing white knuckles and a frown from Josh.

"Are you okay, Tyler?"

"Can ordained priests marry themselves?"

Josh screws up his face in thought. "That's a good question. Um, wouldn't a third party need to be there? Like, a witness?"

Tyler sighs. "Yeah, pro'ly."

"It'd be really crappy if the priest, like, turned around and ended up marrying themself to the… to the, uh, _gride_."

Tyler's laugh leaves in a little huff. He smiles and swings his feet. "Did you seriously just combine 'groom' and 'bride'?"

"Yeah."

"That's funny, Josh."

"Thanks." Josh's fingers absently grab at the sleeve of Tyler's t-shirt, rubbing at the material. "What's got you thinking about marriage?"

Oh, God, there it is, isn't it? _There it is_. Tyler's done this to himself. He can't believe he was so fucking oblivious to this and fucking set himself up for failure. Josh must be expecting it now. Tyler can't even bring himself to look at Josh right now. He focuses on the view in front of him, head craning down to spy on the couple beneath them, already kissing, already holding hands and hugging and— _right_. Tyler's cheeks blush at the sounds of zippers. He straightens up in his seat, slumping back into Josh's arm. "Lovely weather we're having," he says, changing the subject.

Josh shakes his head and laughs. "Oh, yeah."

They're almost at the top. The couple in the cart below them has begun to moan rather loudly. Tyler's death grip on the railing never falters.

"Hey, Tyler," Josh says, his thumb still working into Tyler's t-shirt. "Can I ask you something _really important_?"

If he were to release the rail, Tyler would be shaking like a damn leaf. "Hit me," he says, nonchalant. He knows what Josh is going to ask, and that makes him… scared? Anxious? Fucking over the moon? All of the above?

They're at the top. Tyler closes his eyes.

"Can you suck my dick?"

There it is. _There it is_.

"Are you serious?"

Josh bites his cheek. "Um."

"You dragged me onto the Ferris wheel so I could suck your dick?"

"Yeah?" Josh laughs. It's nervous, like he regrets it immediately. "What did you expect?"

Tyler's heart is tied to an anchor. It sinks, sinks, sinks in his chest and dissolves in stomach acid. "Oh. Nothing. Maybe like a kiss or something." He's trying to shrug it off, to smile at Josh and turn his body toward Josh to show nothing is out of the ordinary despite feeling like his equilibrium has shifted.

"Just a kiss?" Josh tuts. "Come on, Tyler. You know me."

They're still at the top, staring at each other, breathing, waiting. It dawns on Tyler that he's supposed to agree or disagree to Josh's request. They're in the air, high off the ground, and the couple a cart down is still getting it on, so Tyler tosses up his hands and goes, "Why not?" Josh looks like a kid on Christmas.

Kissing is mandatory. Tyler stated it as such after their first date, when Josh expressed over text he thought it would be too soon to kiss Tyler, but Tyler sent back enough exclamation points to crash Josh's phone, and then Josh looked out his window, and Tyler was in the front yard, drenched with sweat and looking ready to pass out. Josh pulled Tyler inside, and Tyler kissed him and kissed him some more and murmured, "You can always kiss me. I want you to always kiss me."

Josh never passes up an opportunity to kiss Tyler, even if they're both a little gross at the time. Those are better, _loads better_ , and if it makes them disgusting, then they're fucking disgusting. Both Josh and Tyler have had worse things in their mouths.

But that isn't the point. Tyler is unzipping Josh's pants, sliding his hand inside briefly to squeeze and palm. Josh laughs while Tyler does this, head actually thrown back like it's the most hilarious thing Tyler has ever done. "Checking to see if it's still there?"

"Yes," Tyler says, rolling his eyes. " _Duh_." He smiles, lowering his head, using both hands to fish out Josh's cock. "Gotta calculate how much effort I need to put into this."

"Not a lot."

"You've been thinking about this for a while."

"Guilty."

"So guilty." Tyler does a quick scan around the area, as if they could actually be caught and forced to stop from up here. Tyler would like to see them try. Would they throw things at them? Tyler could use some more free stuff.

Josh gently holds onto the back of Tyler's head, fingers curling tight around the brunet strands at Tyler's ambition. He's already fully in Tyler's mouth, hitting the back of Tyler's throat, trying his damnedest to not keep Tyler down there because—hello—suffocation. In retrospect, Tyler wouldn't exactly mind if Josh choked him, but now isn't the time to reflect on what they can and can't do while engaging in public sex.

Tyler pushes himself up, his tongue dragging along the underside and flicking upwards along the slit. Pre-come collects there. Tyler suckles, eyes on Josh, before popping off completely. "Back hurts," he says, and drops to his knees.

The cart rocks. Josh's eyes widen. "Whoa."

Tyler takes Josh into his mouth again, and Josh wastes no time in carding his fingers in Tyler's hair. Tyler holds Josh's thighs, picking at holes in his jeans. He hums, and Josh tightens his grip. "Lemme fuck your mouth."

So, Tyler relaxes, and Josh fucks his mouth. It's messy, and Josh misses Tyler's mouth more than once. When Josh's cock smacks Tyler's chin for the fifth time, Tyler decides to regain control. "Lost your privileges," he explains, and Josh laughs. He's always laughing.

But he's whispering now, breathless yeses and yeahs, his fingernails locating a sensitive spot right at the nape of Tyler's neck. He rubs it, scratches it, and Tyler realizes that, yes, he thinks he might be coming in his pants today. Right in this Ferris wheel. Remarkable.

"Hurry up," Josh says.

Tyler shoots a look up at Josh. "Excuse me?" he says, spit on his lips.

"Sorry. I was talking to myself."

Josh's encouraging words helps him along. His orgasms tend to be full-body experiences, but he's keeping it together today. No matter—the cart continues to rock. Tyler swallows most of Josh's semen, climbing back into the seat, and gives the rest to Josh. Tyler has to pull Josh's hand from his mouth in order to kiss him, but it works out in the end.

They're almost to the bottom. Tyler fixes Josh, zipping him up, and then Josh's palm comes to Tyler's front, dragging it slowly down to the hard-cushioned seat and up to Tyler's stomach. It's so slow, yet it's all Tyler needs; he's coming after Josh's hand passes over his cock three times.

They're next in line to get off. Tyler is leaning forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Josh's arm is slung around the back of the cart again, looking absolutely cool and composed with his dumb baseball cap and stupid smiling eyes. Tyler feels disgusting, ashamed, and he almost wishes the Ferris wheel could crash and burn even still. He's in the same headspace as before, as they were climbing up, and now they're climbing down. Tyler should be thrilled. He should be thanking Josh for taking him to the fair, but in spite of these kick-ass cat socks on his feet, Tyler is a fool.

Josh's arm drops. He rubs between Tyler's shoulder blades. "Hey, Tyler," he starts, biting his lip.

Tyler sits up, recovering enough as they approach the close of the ride. "Yeah?"

"Uh, like… will you marry me? I don't have a ring on me. I mean, I considered a Ring Pop because I knew that'd make you smile, but… I don't even have that."

Tyler hugs Josh, tight, not yielding in the slightest. He knocks all the life from Josh's body as he hugs and hugs and rocks and rocks them in this stupid Ferris wheel.

"Is that a 'yes'?" Josh asks, his face in the crook of Tyler's neck.

"It's a million yeses. Two million yeses." Tyler kisses Josh's forehead. "Three million."

"Four million?" Josh raises his eyebrows.

" _Five million_. Six!"

On wobbly knees and unable to break their hand-to-hand contact, they get off the Ferris wheel. Josh pulls Tyler to the vendors, separating to purchase candy. Tyler smells vomit and greasy food, but all he cares about is Josh. Josh is in front of him, saying he only bought Pop Rocks for them, but there's a Ring Pop there, too, and Tyler smiles.


End file.
